


Should We Hear The Silence

by Nixita



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Oblivious Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2904482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nixita/pseuds/Nixita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They don't know each other, they just meet at the morning bus (everyday). And Grantaire is sitting on Enjolras' seat (unacceptable).</p><p>For Enjolras, Grantaire is 'like the guy who played Iron Man, and he has these neon-purple earphones.' And he can't get this guy out of his head.</p><p>And then there's the text-talking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Should We Hear The Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Title stolen from the amazing Emilie Autumn's song.

Enjolras could be pretty stubborn when he wanted to. That means that when he wanted to travel by bus rather than in his car, he just did. It is  _‘a terrible waste of driving skills and a beautiful car’_ if you ask Combeferre, but it stays Enjolras’ final decision and nobody could talk him into using the car.

He goes with the bus since he has started university and after all the years, every person who travels regularly know, what his favorite seat is and it always stays free. Although especially because everyone else have their favorite seat too.

Until one day in December, when Enjolras comes to see his seat occupied by a dark-haired stranger. In that moment, he considers telling the stranger to go away and find himself another seat, which would succeed, he is sure, if he threw him _the look_ , but in the end he decides just to sit next to him and be silent. After all, he can definitely stand one day away in the other seat, which isn’t by the window.

He notices neon-purple earphones hanging from stranger’s ears before he puts his own in and closes his eyes.

-

The next day, when Enjolras steps into the bus, the stranger is right here again and again sitting in the same seat. Enjolras just sits on the next seat wordlessly, and for the rest of his usual route he’s trying to get rid of his annoyance.

He isn’t really successful, because even in the afternoon, at the meeting in Musain, Enjolras is shouting, almost yelling on everyone, who dares to disagree with him. He even ignores Combeferre’s and Courfeyrac’s worried looks and doesn’t stay after _to loosen himself a bit_ , as Jehan calls the usual “have a drink and a few laughs.”

Later, he admits to himself that even the emotional release he just got didn’t help at all. He still can see the guy’s face when he closes his eyes.

-

A week later, on Monday, when Enjolras almost becomes accustomed to sitting next to somebody, he _almost talks_ with the dark-haired guy.

Enjolras is looking into some papers he was supposed to read but couldn’t find the time to do it, when a mobile phone is shoved in front of his face. On the screen is a notepad app opened that contains one and only brief question: _Next day, same time, same place?_

He takes the phone into his hands and tries to type a reply, but the phone is surprisingly reluctant to his attempts. It’s one of the oldschool types, with touch screen and mechanical keyboard at once. When he manages to do four mistakes in the word yes, he gives up and just nods.

The dark-haired guy smiles and looks as if he is deciding whether to write or not to write something else. Enjolras all afternoon deeply regrets that he had to get off the bus.

-

When he get into his now-usual seat on Tuesday, it occurs to him that ‘his’ stranger looks as the guy who played Iron Man, with his disheveled dark hair, dark, thoughtful eyes and stubble and considers calling him Tony – at least in his thoughts. That idea makes him laugh and before he can explain anything, the guy is furiously typing.

_What’s so funny? Do I have anything on my face?_

The thought of fighting with that damned thing again makes Enjolras shiver. Finally, he settles with _I apholkogiye._

_Apology accepted, but what’s going on here?_

_Pls don’r mske mr write tht._ He was trying, he really was.

_U R getting good at this! One flawless ;)_

_.,._

_:D :D_

Enjolras is actually a little glad when his station comes.

-

He is getting accustomed with the usual morning message-talk, he even starts to look forward to it. It’s actually nice, talk to somebody without needing to pull the earphones out of his ears or speaking. And the stranger, his stranger, is so easy going, smart and sarcastic in funny way.

And moreover, Enjolras finally manages to write something on the damned phone.

_R u going to this uni? Law?_

Enjolras smiles. _For fourth yesr now._

_For law’s sake, I’m typo-talking to someone clever, God help me._

_;-) It isn’t that bad. Ad where are yoou travelling?_

His stranger frowns before replying. _Home._

Enjolras wants to know more, but they are slowly getting near the university, so he just sighs and returns the device. The other guy seems to see his hesitation and adds one more message. _Don’t worry, go. You can ask tomorrow._

Later, in the evening, Enjolras spends nearly two hours looking for his old phone with mechanical keyboard.

-

Musain is quite crowded that day and Enjolras is glad when he manages to get a quiet corner and a chair after the meeting, with the ancient phone in his hands and random keyboard typing that seems to make him truly happy.

Combeferre joins him after a short while, looking rather worried. “I can’t believe you’re actually hiding in the corner.”

“I’m not hiding. I just discovered I couldn’t use these old keyboards-phones at all and decided to try getting a little bit of practice.”

‘Ferre eyes him suspiciously, but don’t say anything. And Enjolras knows it’s because he’s a lost cause, but he does not care.

-

_Good morning))_

_Good morning to you too._ Enjolras types quickly and flawlessly. _How are you?_

_Tired, actually. Otherwise gr8. YouR typing’s got better._

The blonde feels himself blush. _I trained a bit._

His stranger looks at him, looking utterly surprised. Because of me?, say his eyes. _Dat’s nice._

_;-)_

_Well, you wanted to ask me smth…?_

Enjolras is trying to look as if he just remembered, not as if he was thinking about it all day before. _Why are you going home at this crazy hour?_

The reply takes the dark haired guy a long time, Enjolras even starts to fear that he won’t have the time to read it. Finally, he gets the phone into his hands, with just enough time to eye it quickly.

_Y’know, someone has to make money so you students can study in peace. I work at one factory in town, mostly nightshifts bcs of money. And since I live at suburbs, it’s quite logical I’m going home. The final station it is._

Enjolras feels sadness behind the lines as he reads the message. The line with money touched his revolutionary heart and he promises to himself that he will mention Musain and the meetings the next day. He most definitely will.

-

But the next day, this promise is absolutely forgotten. His stranger just sits there without a coat and looks so sad that Enjolras’ sits himself down as quickly as he can and without thinking pulls him into a hug. He notices that he has apparently forgotten not only his coat, but his earphones too. “Sssssh. I don’t know what happened, but it will be okay,” he says and then he realizes it is the first thing he actually _said_. “I’ll give you my earphones and you’ll listen to some music, okay? It’ll make everything seem better.”

And Enjolras does as he said, he gently shoves his earphones into stranger’s ears and connects them to the old mp3 player he still uses. He almost can’t bring himself to leave at the uni station.

-

That afternoon, Enjolras has the stupid feeling that nobody listened to him at the meeting, not even Combeferre, because he wasn’t able to tell one coherent sentence. All he could think of, all he could see in front of his eyes was the dark-haired stranger, not the world reborn.

And what is the worst thing? He didn’t, and doesn’t even care.

He is not interested even when Jehan, Courfeyrac, Joly and Bossuet announce they’ll be leaving early, because they had been invited to _a very special event._

He asks them which event only out of politeness resting in his head.

“Oh, to Grantaire’s,” says Jehan with a huge smile. “He’s a friend of mine, well, friend of us. He’s throwing a little-bit-of-a-party, because he has finally freed himself for one day from his terrible working routine.”

“You know how bad to your health is doing nighshifts,” Joly adds. “Wouldn’t you like to join us? You would like him, he may have a bit cynical opinions, but he’s incredibly smart.”

“Maybe next time,” smiles Enjolras, “I’m too tired to party. But, wait, maybe you could bring that smart guy here?”

“We can try, but as Joly said, he has the world worst work, he’s doing nightshifts. He wouldn’t make it, I guess.”

Enjolras watches them as they leave with sadness in his eyes. It seems as if the world decided to remind him of the stranger’s existence by all ways possible. It was like… They couldn’t have the nightshifts-doing guy before, they had to find him when Enjolras got his own one.

-

On Wednesday he finds his, fuck, theirs usual seats empty, and he feels like crying and the absence of the guy he talked to exactly once is doing things to him.

He thinks he has finally driven himself mad.

He thinks about everything, about the guy, about all the feelings and about that how is his day going to be shitty without the morning routine and without his earphones too.

-

Enjolras’ relief is almost unbearable when Thursday greets him with dark curls on his former seat. He rushes to his stranger and does not even feel embarrassed about it.

 _Careful, Apollo, don’t hurt yourself._ The message is waiting for him when he sits down. Enjolras smiles.

_Don’t worry about me, I’ll manage. Although, Apollo?_

The reply is quick as usual. _U kinda look like him and if you don’t know dat, uR probably blind._

 _I also compared you to someone but you definitely don’t want to know._ Enjolras lets out a laugh as the memory returns.

_The time u laughed at me? C’mon, tell me!_

_Nope._

_:(_

_You are not going to talk me into telling you._

The darkhaired guy looks almost upset at the statement. Enjolras is so _not_ thinking about it that he forgets to ask about his earphones.

-

_Apollo :P_

_Good morning._ Enjolras replies the next day, feeling tired to the bone.

However, his stranger is not stupid. _What upsets u?_ He shoves him the phone, but then backs with his hand. _Is it me?_

_No. It’s just… it’s Friday._

_Yea, it is. Time to celebrate! Think I could get drunk, finally._

_Do you enjoy getting drunk?_ The blonde can’t help himself, the question, scornful as it is, just slips from his mind to his fingers.

The stranger smiles, not noticing anything. _Ofc yes. Especially with Prouvaire, hes so fun when drunk._

_Prouvaire?_

_A friend of mine. Am I not allowed to have friends?_

_Of course you are. Allowed, I mean. I just… that name’s strange._ Enjolras manages to type quickly before getting up and moving to the door. He turns back, however, and meets the stranger’s confused eyes.

-

He finds himself pushing poor Prouvaire to the nearest Musain wall and blackmailing him.

It would be funny if it weren’t so pathetic.

The conversation goes like this:

“Under the threat of capital punishment, tell me, do you know a man who looks like Tony Stark at the morning?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Enjolras,” Jehan objects. “What is this, practice for the next political party you’re invited to?”

Enjolras snorts. “I was told… hell, written to… that the guy who looks like Stark knows a Prouvaire.”

“And surely I’m the only Prouvaire in Paris. That’s a wise conclusion, Enjolras.”

He would really like to continue the conversation, but suddenly the annoying fly called Pontmercy is behind him and he is tugging on his sleeve and pulling him away to Joly, who is measuring his pulse, temperature and murmuring something about needing lunch and rest and Enjolras just gives up and decides he leaves the topic. For now.

-

Monday comes and it is as grey and boring as usual, but Enjolras can’t help but be utterly happy about it. His stranger looks even more tired than he usually does, he looks positively exhausted, but Enjolras is radiating with so much energy that it seems to cheer him up.

 _Brought back your earphones &mp3._ He types and then he’s shoving said items into Enjolras’ hands. _Thank you for the comfort back there._

_You’re welcome. Can I ask you something?_

_Ofc._

_Why did you start a conversation like this? I mean, writing &stuff…_

The dark haired guy is looking shocked that he was asked a question like this. He signs to Enjolras that he needs a moment to collect his thoughts. When he finally starts writing, he is blushing and it doesn’t take long to figure out why:

_Well, the very first time I met you, you looked so furious that I was actually afraid of you. And the first time I texted, I was ill and couldn’t speak properly. But the main reason is… and I will tell you only if you promise you won’t hold it against me… you can’t save spoken words and rehear them later, you know..._

The university station is coming closer as the stranger takes the phone back and types even more furiously than before.

 _And since this is the last time I travel by this bus bcs I got fired that day I looked like shit and this was my last day at work, I tell you – I might have fallen in love with your beautiful eyes, your bright smile, your cute mistakes, your face when you listen to music and your care and… you. Glad I met you, Apollo._  
Enjolras reads the message as the stranger types, knowing he’ll have to hurry if he want to get off the bus on this station and he could swear he sees the tears in his company’s eyes as he waves the probably last goodbye to him.

He has plenty of time to regret it later.

All winter break, for example.

-

“Are you sure you don’t want to come this time?” Joly asks and judging by the expression he wears, he is asking for the third or the fourth time.

Enjolras, currently thinking about organizing an intertown-al search for his stranger, doesn’t bother to make it any easier. “I don’t want to what?”

“Come this time.”

He feels like he couldn’t be more surprised. “Come _where_?”

Courfeyrac appears from nowhere and sighs. “To Grantaire’s. Party time is coming!”

“It’s the smart guy from earlier, isn’t it?”

“The one Jehan’s rambling about, yes.”

Enjolras shrugs. “And you know what? I’m going with you.”

He pretends not to see the unbelieving looks his friends are giving him.

-

Their Grantaire apparently lives somewhere near his stranger and Enjolras can’t help but laugh ironically when they step into the bus, his bus, which is almost empty. He eyes his seat, hell, _their_ seat with hope, but of course it stays empty.

The final station is incredibly far from city center and from his uni both and Enjolras feels a strong sting of sympathy for his stranger. He would definitely go mad if he had to travel this far after a nightshift.

-

Jehan leads them into dark suburbs quarters, to an even darker street, where the music is strangely audible and clearly coming from one of the few small houses standing there.

They come to one of these, the one with door decorated with a faded black R and Jehan confidently opens the door which is unlocked and invites them into the house. It’s clear he has been there many times.

“R? We brought you someone!” Joly yells, an octave louder than the music.

“That revolutionary smartass whom I would definitely tear apart in a minute with my cynicism?” comes the reply and Enjolras feels offended, because this is betrayal from people he thought friends. “Enj… something.” The owner of the voice hesitates. “Enjolras! Show me.”

R’s voice is remarkably nice, calm and silky and slightly hoarse in the same time and with just a hint of sarcasm that makes it impossibly interesting.

“You show yourself,” Courfeyrac laughs and then the music is quieter and there are footsteps and a figure standing in the small hall they’re in.

A pretty familiar figure.

“Apollo?” it asks in a shocked, strangled voice.

And Enjolras is just standing there, breathless, speechless and unbelieving, until he’s suddenly overcoming these three steps that are dividing them and throwing his arms around his guy, his stranger, his – _Grantaire_ , he realizes, and he’s finally hugging him again, this time so tightly that there isn’t enough space even for breathing between them.

“I missed your presence in my day. I missed _you_ like hell,” he admits, when he decides it’s time to calm down and maybe let them both breathe.

Grantaire laughs. “Hush, you. You wouldn’t see me either way, it’s winter break.”

“Well, now I’ve seen you and you’ll never get rid of me again.”

“Care to explain?” Joly asks and it sounds offended. “I know both of you but I don’t know anything about you two and I definitely don’t like it.”

“I’m afraid, my dear friend,” Enjolras sighs, “there are inexplicable things in this world. For example… UFO, déjà vu, intuition… or how we met.”


End file.
